


Triad

by Dusty_Forgotten



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Anal Plug, Blow Jobs, F/M, M/M, Multi, Pegging, Strap-Ons, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-15
Updated: 2014-09-15
Packaged: 2018-02-17 11:48:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2308571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dusty_Forgotten/pseuds/Dusty_Forgotten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Meet Craig Boone, power bottom.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Triad

Cass actually stopped drinking for this one. “...You _what?_ ”

Boone, arms crossed and face immutable as ever, blinked behind his glasses. “You heard me.”

“Yeah, I heard you, but...” She shook her head, whiskey bottle dangling from her hand, forgotten. “A _threesome?_ ”

“You tellin’ me you never had one?”

“‘Course I had one, I’m just a little blindsided. I mean, you never said three words to me.”

“Never say three words to anyone.” he verbally shrugged.

Cass shook her head, standing. “Fuck it. Yeah, sure, you got it.”

He inclined his head vaguely to the elevator, and headed towards it, Cass following. The ride was silent, and awkward, and she spent a good portion of the time wondering about the sex: was it going to be a love sandwich, or a devil’s three-way? No, no, had to be two ladies; Boone looked the _balls absolutely must not touch_ type. When they walked straight past Gomorrah, off the Strip, however, she figured they were headed for the Wrangler. That certainly made things more interesting.

“So, Beatrix, Santiago, or FISTO?” she joked, the choice being obvious.

“No.” came his simple response, and he didn’t elaborate. She figured it was meant to be a surprise. Well, as long as she wasn’t getting jackhammered by FISTO, she was happy.

When they entered the casino, Cass bought a bottle of whiskey, took a long pull for courage, and followed the sniper upstairs to their rented room.

“No lucky pierre tonight?” Arcade sighed wistfully. “Ah, well. I can live with this.”

“Damn right you can.” Boone replied, moving out of Cass’s sightline.

The redhead blinked for a moment. Arcade stood across from her, sans lab coat, arms crossed and smiling entirely too amiably with the assumption the irrefutably gay doctor was about to be balls-deep in her. “Um...” she began dumbly. “You’re okay with this?”

He nodded assuredly. “I suggested it.”

“Wow. Okay.” She shook her head, and took another swig, because she was not nearly drunk enough to sleep with Arcade, of all people.

Boone reappeared- or, his hand did, handing her... “A _strap-on?_ ”

“You’ve used one before, right?” Boone asked, slipping his shirt over his head. He left the beret on.

“‘Course I’ve used one, I’m just-” She turned over the dildo, harness, and bottle of lube, and caught sight of Craig Boone, belt loosened, cargo pants dropped, working an anal plug out of himself. Her mouth stopped working. She glanced from the man she was apparently going to be pegging, to Arcade, smiling down at the sniper with one hand on his chin and the other on his fly.

Oh.

_Oh._

_Ohhh!_

Boone pulled his mouth off Arcade- when had he started?- and glared over his shoulder at her. “My ass ain’t gonna fill itself.”

Cass’s saucer-eyes landed on Arcade- his _face, thank you_ \- who smiled amicably. “Hi, I’m Arcade, and I don’t mind women as long as they’re not touching me. Meet Craig Boone, power bottom. Shocking, I know.”

Cass’s eyes fell from the entirely too friendly doctor, to his dick (which was still technically the doctor), to the strap-on in her hand, to the already prepped rear waiting for her. Yeah, she could get into this.


End file.
